


Drabble Collection

by yeahloads



Series: look at everything we've grown [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beta Jeff, Bodily Functions, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Harry, Original Azoff Children, Post Mpreg, Self-Indulgent Niche Nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21529402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahloads/pseuds/yeahloads
Summary: Little snapshots of Harry and Jeff's life with their family.
Relationships: Jeff Azoff/Harry Styles
Series: look at everything we've grown [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1248533
Kudos: 22





	1. Drop It Like It's Hot

**Author's Note:**

> All of these were originally posted on tumblr, but I wanted to clean them up and give them a proper home here with the rest of the verse. The originals can still be found [here](https://harrysfuzzysocks.tumblr.com/index).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colloquially known as 'Tummy Trouble' this deals with Harry's struggles post-episiotomy. Read at your own risk.

There are a lot of things that Jeff won’t ask out of respect for Harry’s privacy. It doesn’t matter how many years they’ve been married, or how many children Jeff has watched as they’re removed from Harry’s body. It doesn’t matter that Jeff knows that the cute little squeeze bottles that Harry has in the bathroom are not for drinking. It’s not his business. 

That philosophy, however, gets thrown out the window when Harry becomes the crankiest he’s ever been, possibly in his entire life. He’s not malicious or snappy (because even at the worst of times he’s still unfairly kind) but Jeff can tell that he’s incredibly uncomfortable. 

Jeff was standing right there when the doctor made the decision to cut the opening so all nine pounds and five ounces of River could be safely born. And Jeff was still there when they stitched Harry back up, trying not to visibly wince when he risked a glance down there. 

Still, he doesn’t want to outright ask Harry if it’s the healing incision that’s bothering him. He already knows the answer: Yes. 

Harry has taken to waddling around the house when he’s up and moving around. He sits down very gingerly, sometimes turning ashen and breathing through what Jeff assumes to be an alarming amount of pain. Otherwise, Harry spends a lot of time in bed for the first few days that River is home snoozing through nursing—which is going swimmingly—and watching daytime TV. 

He helps Jeff with dinner and sits at the table with him and the boys to eat. Jeff watches as Harry eats normally at first, but slowly devolves to only picking at his plate, eating less with each passing day.

After a full week of Harry looking increasingly miserable, Jeff decides that enough is enough. 

He approaches cautiously. Harry is lying on the couch, spooning his pregnancy pillow, arms wrapped around it, a section of it wedged in between his thighs, cheek smushed against the top. Overall, he looks rather pathetic, and Jeff would feel bad about ambushing him when he’s vulnerable but it’s in his best interest. 

Jeff joins him on the couch and rearranges Harry’s feet so they’re resting in his lap and starts rubbing them. He’s hoping that a little foot massage might soften the blow. 

“Hey, kid. How’re you holding up?”

“Fine,” Harry mumbles, wiggling his toes. 

Jeff nods and takes a deep breath. “I, uh. Noticed something. In the bathroom cabinet.”

Harry glances at him over his shoulder suspiciously, cheeks turning pink.

Jeff continues. “Are you having, like, bathroom issues?”

Harry sits up quicker than Jeff has seen him do so in months, grimacing as he does. “We’re not doing this right now. Or, like, ever,” he rushes.

“Babe,” Jeff grabs Harry’s wrist. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m not judging.”

“I don’t care if you’re judging or not, I’m not talking to you about this.” Harry lets out a short, panicky laugh. 

“Have you talked to the doctor yet? I know it can...take a while. For things to start working right again. I remember that from the first time around. But it’s been a week. That’s a long time to have not...pooped.”

After pulling his wrist from out of Jeff’s hand, Harry glares at him, gathers his pillow, and stalks down the hall without saying another word. 

_Well, that could have gone better_ , Jeff thinks. 

***

Jeff decides to take matters into his own hands. 

The stuff Harry had in the bathroom was some type of fiber tablet. Jeff does a quick Google search and finds out that such things are usually a first step when trying to combat constipation. Given the way that Harry has continued to mope around the house and discreetly rub his bloated stomach, the tablets are clearly not helping much. 

Under the guise of a quick grocery store trip, Jeff brings in the big gun: MiraLax. He also grabs a gallon of milk because Harry’s last baking session used up the last of what they had. For good measure, he decides to buy a six-pack of Activia yogurt and some flushable wipes. If he’s doing this, he’s doing this right. 

He keeps them hidden when he returns home. After last time, he won’t make the same mistake twice. He has to do this artfully. _Subtle_. Anything else is just going to spook Harry and back him further into a corner. 

All three kids are down for a nap and like some sort of cosmic joke, Jeff finds Harry walking out of their master bathroom.

Shuffling the bag behind his back, Jeff tries to ask a question without actually asking, sending Harry a meaningful look. 

Harry ducks his head. “Nope,” he says to their bedroom carpet. 

Jeff makes a sympathetic noise. “I’m sorry.”

Clearly eager to change the subject, Harry points and asks, “What’s in the bag?”

Things aren’t going according to plan. 

“Nothing. Just some stuff.”

Harry hesitates. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m not acting weird.”

Narrowing his eyes, Harry says, “Yes you are. Why won’t you tell me what you bought?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jeff blurts.

“I don’t _want_ to be surprised. I wanna know what you have behind your back, you walnut.”

So much for artfulness and subtlety. Sighing, Jeff dumps the contents of the bag rather unceremoniously on the bed. 

Harry stands next to him and eyes the items silently. He hums thoughtfully and nudges Jeff’s arm with his elbow. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

Jeff pulls Harry in by the waist, rubbing his hip with his thumb. “I just want you to be healthy and comfortable.”

Groaning, Harry says, “ _God_ , we’re those horrible married people, aren’t we? The ones with absolutely zero mystery in their relationship.”

“The mystery ended when you had me pop that ingrown hair on your ass.”

Harry turns his face into Jeff’s chest and laughs. “That was an emergency. I thought it was infected.”

“Still happened, though.”

Turning his attention back to the bed, Harry turns over one of the items Jeff bought. He reads the package and scoffs.

“ _Wipes_? You got me diaper wipes?” The plastic package crinkles dejectedly as Harry drops it back on the duvet.

“ _Uh_ , no. Those aren’t _diaper wipes_ , they’re wipes for _adults_ ,” Jeff corrects. “We have plenty of diaper wipes in this house and I thought about giving you some but I _didn’t_ , because I’m nice.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to help.” Jeff ruffles Harry’s hair and is deeply pleased when he tries to bat his hands away. 

“Stop that— _stop_ ,” Harry breathes on a laugh. “Thank you. I appreciate your efforts. Even though I’d rather you stay blissfully ignorant to the conflicts I have with my intestines.”

“The MiraLax is supposed to be good. I read reviews about it and everything. The yogurt and wipes were just for fun.”

Harry bites his lip to try and stifle his smile. “I hate you. _I love you_ , but I still hate you.”

“Wonderful. Now, let’s go. We have to dissolve this in water so you can take it.” Jeff tosses the purple and white bottle in the air and catches it, his smile probably hedging into maniacal territory if Harry’s worried expression is anything to go by. 

***

A full twenty-four hours pass with constant updates but no results. Jeff tries to keep Harry as rallied as possible, but he can tell that he’s disheartened. He’s trying to not let it affect his own optimism.

Jeff feels bad even suggesting that Harry try to wait it out, so he takes another trip to the store. He browses the designated section of the pharmacy with increasing urgency. Most of the available medications have the same ingredients as the MiraLax and he doesn’t want to buy the same thing twice. A few people pass by him and give him sympathetic looks and he accepts them, despite how much he’d like to say, “ _No, don’t worry. They’re not for me. My husband just had a baby and he hasn’t shit in over a week_.” He opts to save Harry the embarrassment, even though he’s not here to bear it.

Suddenly, a different box catches Jeff’s eye. Harry isn’t going to be happy, but it’s still worth a shot. Jeff heads to the checkout.

***

“No. Absolutely not.” Harry crosses his arms. His glare is positively icy. 

Jeff tries to touch Harry’s forearm, but he steps back before he can make contact. “C’mon. It might make you feel better. You’ll never know unless you try.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Don’t patronize me. You’re an asshole for even bringing those home. I should make _you_ do one, if you think it’s so funny.”

“I—I didn’t buy them to be funny. I’m genuinely trying to help!”

“I wish I never told you about this,” Harry snaps.

“In sickness and in health, right?” Jeff asks, sarcasm dripping off every word.

River takes the opportunity to start crying then, saving them from a potential argument. Harry takes the baby to go feed him and Jeff accepts his dismissal, checking on the twins in their play area. 

The rest of the day is awkward. Every time Jeff tries to touch Harry, he scurries away. Jeff makes the mistake of telling him he might be acting a bit over dramatic and Harry just smiles pleasantly. It’s more concerning than if he were to tell Jeff to fuck off.

It takes until later that night, after the boys are settled in their cribs and either asleep or well on their way to asleep, that Harry finally relaxes a bit. Jeff has to keep reminding himself that Harry isn’t upset just for the sake of it; it _is_ embarrassing, and as much as Harry would like to live under the illusion that Jeff is unaware that he has some unsavory bodily functions, it’s not reality, and having to confront that likely isn’t fun for him. 

Jeff was expecting the pregnancy pillow to act as an impromptu barrier between them in bed tonight, but instead, Harry cuddles up to him and sticks one of his freezing cold hands under Jeff’s t-shirt, resting it on his stomach. Jeff sucks in air through his teeth. “Easy there, ice princess.”

“You’re warm,” Harry says, unbothered, his head on Jeff’s chest. 

Jeff gets an arm around him and pulls him even closer. “Sorry if I upset you today. It wasn’t my intention.”

With a sigh, Harry says, “I know. I’m sorry for overreacting. I know you’re just trying to help.”

“I meant it when I said in sickness and in health. You always take care of me and the boys when we’re not feeling well like it’s no big deal. The least I can do is try to extend you the same courtesy.” 

“Yeah, but this is _embarrassing_. Like, the most embarrassing.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I clogged a school toilet once, _so_ badly that they had to keep it out of order for a week?” Jeff tries.

Harry snorts. “That actually does help a little bit.”

They’re both quiet for a while, and Jeff thinks that Harry is actually asleep until he breaks the silence.

“I think it’s more like...mind over matter at this point,” Harry says softly. “I’m so afraid of hurting the stitches that I’m, like, preventing myself from going.”

“Didn’t the doctor say that it’s nearly impossible to pull the stitches, though?”

“Yeah, she said that, but it doesn’t mean I’m not worried about it happening anyway,” Harry mumbles darkly. 

“I think you should trust her, babe. You’ve been miserable.”

Harry tilts his head up to meet Jeff’s eyes, shy but smiling. “I’ll try one of those horrible things you bought me tomorrow. Put it in the hands of the higher powers—my organs be damned. If you hear me singing “Jesus Take the Wheel” then you’ll know that it’s happening whether I want it to or not.”

Jeff has to cover his mouth with a hand to muffle his laughter, otherwise he’d wake the kids. He pats Harry on the back. “That’s the spirit. See, I knew the suppositories were gonna be a good choice.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry moves back so he’s resting on his own pillow, but still keeps his hand under Jeff’s shirt. “Goodnight, Jeffrey.”

***

Harry runs down the hall like he’s being chased by a bear. Placidly, Jeff just watches and continues to rock River in his swing seat using his foot. Jude and Eli are in front of him on the carpet, engrossed in the original cartoon version of _101 Dalmatians_ because his kids are going to be educated on classic Disney films if he has anything to say about it. 

He waits until Cruella de Vil has stolen the puppies and for River to officially be asleep before he heads down the hall. After a pit stop to put River in his crib, Jeff knocks on the bathroom door. 

“You okay in there?”

Harry’s voice is muffled by the door. “I’m gonna ruin these stitches. Fuck what the doctor said, they’re gonna rip.”

“Harry, relax. They’re not gonna rip. Don’t...don’t, uh, push. And you’ll be fine.”

“Shut _up_. You have _no idea_ what this is like right now.”

“Have I told you that I love you lately?”

“I don’t love you right now. This is your fault. _You_ got me pregnant and _you_ made me give birth to your monster-headed children.”

Arguing with him will be futile right now so Jeff doesn’t bother. “I’m sorry. Is yelling at me helping at all?”

“...Yes.”

Jeff can’t resist the temptation, so he turns up the volume on his phone and starts to play “Let it Go” from the _Frozen_ soundtrack. Within ten seconds, Harry is yelling at him to leave or face bodily harm. Giggling like a child, Jeff takes up residence on their bed and scrolls through his phone, giving Harry his privacy again. 

Harry doesn’t emerge until a half-hour later, after Jeff has already put Jude and Eli down for their naps, looking almost as weary as he did during labor and delivery only a handful of days ago. He turns on the bathroom fan vent and shuts the door quickly.

“We have to move,” Harry says. 

“What?”

“We need to move to a new house immediately. I can’t live here anymore knowing what just happened in that bathroom.”

“That bad, huh?” Jeff asks. 

“Stop talking to me. That was mean, what you did. With the song.” Harry’s smiling, though. So he can’t be that mad.

“Do you at least feel better now?”

Harry knees onto the bed and faceplants, letting out a long breath. “Yes,” he says blissfully. “You can have the next baby. This factory is closed. Because if I ever have to go through that again, I’ll actually die.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the right parts.”

“What a shame that is,” Harry says flatly. 

Jeff pulls Harry up so they can lie side-by-side. “Well, at least now we know that suppositories work way faster than oral medication.”

Harry looks unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m so happy I was able to find that out firsthand.”

One of the kids starts to cry down the hall, and judging by the distinct cat-like quality to it, it’s likely River. Jeff gets up before Harry can and urges him back down when he tries to follow.

“No,” Jeff says, “You stay here and enjoy your post-poop glow. I’ll deal with the baby.”

Harry flips him the middle finger while Jeff walks away laughing. Truly, there is never a dull moment. 


	2. Caught Red-Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little drabble about Harry being a pest.

Jeff has never unlocked and re-locked his phone so fast in his entire life. He slams it down on the big meeting table and probably draws more attention doing that than he did while stealthily checking his messages. A few heads turn to look at him but his fellow meeting-goers remain unbothered. 

No one saw anything. Or at least he hopes no one did. Because Harry sent him a picture. A live one, to be exact, where if you press down on it, it shows it being taken in real time, any movement acting like a mini video snapshot. In the millisecond that Jeff had his phone open, all he saw was _a lot_ of skin. And nipples. And dick. And belly. 

With still-red cheeks, he starts to wonder how Harry even managed to take the picture. Unless he’s developed telescoping octopus arms that are six feet long, there’s no way he should have reasonably been able to get a photo from that angle, in the bathtub, nonetheless. He’ll have to scold him for that later; Harry knows he’s not supposed to use technology in the bathroom, prone to dropping things as he is. He had a close call with a portable speaker the other day, so he’s been banned. 

Jeff shouldn’t look again. He really, _really_ shouldn’t. But after an agonizing few minutes of pretending to listen to whatever presentation is being given, curiosity wins out. This time, though, he’s more discreet, angling his body and putting his phone under the table so that wandering eyes won’t be able to see what he’s doing. 

_Christ_ , it’s just as devastating the second time around, now that he can really look. Jeff has never really known Harry to be a modest person, but this is a lot even for him. 

The picture doesn’t even look like it was taken with the intent of being sexy or lewd, but that _would_ be Harry’s exact approach to taking a sexy nude picture. However, even Jeff feels a tiny bit weird about it, considering that the baby bump seems to be the main point of the photo. (Jeff doesn’t like to ever directly address his thoughts on the dirty, gut-churning, hot feeling he gets whenever he thinks too hard about how Harry is pregnant and full with _his_ baby, so he definitely doesn’t entertain that train of thought now, while in the middle of a _meeting_ , even if Harry is trying to stir the pot.)

It’s a direct aerial shot of Harry in the bath, which apparently isn’t very full, the water only barely covering most of his body, knees bent and sticking up, leg hair wet and matted down. His belly is completely exposed, a perfectly formed, sloping expanse of rounded skin extending from his middle. His skin looks pink and flushed, damp. His nipples are a deeper pink than usual, framed by soft, supple flesh. His dick and balls are partly obscured by the belly, but Jeff can see enough. It looks like Harry is on his way to being aroused, shaft resting against his thigh with the barest hint of the head peeking out of his foreskin. Even the purple-y stretch marks on his hips and sides look lovely. 

The only thing missing is his face, which is completely cut off, only his neck visible.

Ah, there’s a text attached that Jeff failed to notice the first time. _Impromptu in utero gymnastics competition_ , it reads. 

According to Harry, the baby has been moving around quite a bit lately, and he’s absolutely thrilled. He says it feels different than it did with the twins. Less cramped, or something. And he likes that he knows exactly which baby he’s feeling, as opposed to when he would get irrationally upset over the prospect of mixing up Baby A and Baby B, only soothed by the reassurance that they didn’t speak English yet, and therefore couldn't understand what he was calling them. 

Quickly, Jeff types, _Stop sexting me, I’m at work_. 

The bubble with three dots pops up almost immediately. Harry says, _I wasn’t sexting you but I can if you want_. And then, in a separate text, _The baby was going nuts and I wanted you to see_. 

Oh, I saw plenty, Jeff thinks. _I’m in the middle of a meeting, but thank you for thinking of me. Also, how did you even take that picture?_

Harry responds with the kissy face emoji and says, _Impulse bought a selfie stick at the store earlier. Thought it might come in handy. Like for when I try to get my loving partner to send me dirty texts but he’s boring_. 

Jeff has to hold back a laugh, glancing around to make sure that no one is paying attention to him still. _So your true intentions are revealed_. 

Harry starts typing and stops, only to start again, _It’s your fault my hormones are like this_.

 _So I’ve been told, but I distinctly remember you being an active and willing participant_ , Jeff responds, feeling quite smug. 

_Oh?_ Jeff can practically feel Harry’s pleased smile all the way from home. _Refresh my memory. I think I forgot_.

 _Not a chance. Get out of the tub before you turn into a prune_. Smiling and shaking his head, Jeff pockets his phone. 

If the rest of his meeting is spent trying and failing to think about anything other than Harry, who at home, is probably in some state of undress because being pregnant makes him run hotter than usual...well. He doesn’t have to tell anyone. 


	3. Confetti Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeff buys Harry a house.

If Harry was suspicious when Jeff told him that the kids were at his mom’s house for the day and that he had something planned for them, he never showed it. He didn’t question it when Jeff loaded him into the car and jumped on the highway. He still didn’t question it when they were still on the road forty-five minutes later. He just sat quietly in the passenger seat, a small smile on his face, while he hummed along with the radio. Jeff kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting in Harry’s over the center console. 

Jeff was giddy the entire time, but he had to keep it concealed so he didn’t give anything away, even though Harry seemed dead-set on remaining oblivious to everything, likely pleased to have a day of relative peace and quiet without the kids. Still, Jeff was practically vibrating in his seat.

He had made that same drive a few times already, the first being his initial look at the house after being in correspondence with the realtor for a few weeks. Keeping it a secret from Harry had been a feat, working exclusively in incognito tabs, only taking phone calls on his lunch break at work so Harry wouldn’t be able to overhear. Then he’d gone back to visit the house a few more times, to check on different renovations and to simply just look at it, standing in the empty living room, trying to picture all of their furniture inside of it, visualizing how it would fill the space, how it might look with his family in it. 

A large part of him has felt odd about not involving Harry in the process. Buying a house is a pretty big deal, and Harry had been so hands-on with the first one, really passionate about making sure that everything was near-perfect, that Jeff isn’t sure how he’ll react to being edged out of the initial decision. However, Jeff is pretty confident that he knows Harry’s tastes by now, so hopefully it will be a good surprise. 

Pulling onto the quiet residential street, Harry is still quietly looking out the window, all signs pointing to him being in a good mood. Jeff just hopes it lasts. 

He pulls into the driveway of 649 Hillsea Ave and cuts the engine. Harry turns to Jeff and smiles, but it’s a little wobbly around the edges. He eyes Jeff suspiciously. 

“Do you wanna get out?” Jeff asks.

Harry hesitates. “Why? Are we visiting someone?” 

Jeff shakes his head and hops out of the car, moving around to open Harry’s door for him and help him down. 

“What is this?” Harry asks, nerves finally starting to fully manifest, his voice flinty.

Jeff can’t answer him, too full-up on joy and excitement. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, confetti is going to fly out, or something equally ridiculous. 

“Seriously, Jeff, can you say something? You’re freaking me out.”

Jeff nods his head in the direction of the realtor’s sign in the front yard with a _SOLD_ sign sitting proudly on top. 

Harry turns and whips back around, eyes wide, his cheeks blooming pink. “What is this?” he whispers.

Jeff clears his throat, a lump suddenly forming. “It’s yours. Well—our’s, if you want it.” He wiggles his fingers in a poor imitation of jazz-hands. “Surprise?”

Harry rakes a hand through his own hair, lower lip starting to tremble dangerously. His voice cracks when he asks, “What?”

Jeff shrugs. “I know it seemed like a pipe dream, getting a bigger house. But that was a couple years ago. And we haven’t really talked about it since. But I’ve worked out all the finances and with my new position at work...we can do it. Well, I went ahead and did it, actually. And I wanted to surprise you.” Jeff closes the gap between them and wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulders. He’s relieved when Harry melts into him.

“I—I don’t know what to say.” Harry says into Jeff’s shoulder. Before Jeff can respond, he continues. “Jeff. This house...it has _two_ balconies.” He lifts his head to double-check, biting his lip like he’s hesitating. His eyes are asking _Can we really afford this_?

Jeff grins. His cheeks are going to start hurting soon, he’s smiling so much. “Do you wanna see the inside?”

Harry nods, a smile of his own starting to creep onto his face.

Jeff wiggles the fresh key out of his jeans pocket and presses it into Harry’s open palm, letting him do the honors. 

It’s more than satisfying, watching Harry’s jaw literally drop after only stepping into the foyer. All of the walls are white for now, because Jeff wanted Harry to have a completely blank canvas to work with. Everything is bright and clean, amplified by the natural light that all of the windows provide. If Jeff is being honest, the front door and windows sold this house to him; everything about the house is beautiful, but they’re the features that he loves the most. 

This will be their first two-story house, and the big staircase in the front hall is hard to miss, made of rich, dark wood and simple trim. All of the rooms are empty for now, long expanses of deep hickory hardwood floors flanking the foyer, a living room to the right and a dining room to the left. 

Harry looks like he’s floating as he moves, stepping slowly and making the floors creak satisfyingly, like the crunch of a good loaf of bread. Apparently the house was built in the thirties and has great bones. All the floors are original but have been sanded and refinished. Jeff follows silently while Harry explores, watching as he drags his fingers over built-ins and door frames, his green eyes making sweeping arcs as he surveys everything from the bottom to the top. 

They make their way to the kitchen, where the island looks bigger than their entire current kitchen. The counter tops are a dark granite with white cabinets, paired with a neutral, small-tiled backsplash. The range is huge, and it even has a big brushed stainless steel hood. 

Harry inhales sharply. “Jeffrey, there’s a pot filler.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeff snorts. “I had it installed.”

Harry is on him in a second, wrapping his leg all the way around Jeff’s hips, clinging like his life depends on it. “ _God_ ,” he breathes. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so weird and quiet. I _love_ it. Everything. I love _you_.” He loosens his hold marginally and drops back down to the floor so he can kiss all over Jeff’s face. 

“How can you love everything if you’ve only seen part of the first floor? We still haven’t done upstairs and the backyard,” Jeff says. Harry pinches him. “Oh, yeah. And I guess I like you too.”

They poke around downstairs for a few more minutes. Jeff shows Harry the half-bath and all of the closets. Harry starts verbally planning all of the storage racks he’s going to get from Ikea and Jeff nods away, pleased that Harry seems much more enthused now. It was a lot to take in at first, so Jeff doesn’t blame him for being a bit shocked, but having outwardly happy and excited Harry is far superior. 

On the upstairs landing, while peering down the hallway, Harry tentatively asks, “How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Four, including the master. There’s an office, though. If we wanted another bedroom, for whatever. Or, like...I already talked to a builder. We could either do some shifting with the current structure or add on to the downstairs.” Jeff says it as mildly as possible. The boys are a handful already, and while it’s on the table—having another baby someday—it’s not something they’ve actually discussed at the current time. 

Harry’s face remains pleasant, though. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. I feel kinda bad, that you had to do it all by yourself.”

“It was no problem. You take care of the kids most of the time, so the least I could do is get you a nice house.”

Harry’s ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck. “Our house is nice. I mean—the one we’re currently living in.”

“It is. I’m gonna miss it.”

Harry’s eyes flick back up to Jeff’s. “But?”

“But, this is good. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Harry exhales. “Of course. It’s _gorgeous_. And now the boys will be able to have their own rooms.” He pauses, but sounds confident when he says, “It was time."

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Harry opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, but he smiles instead. It’s a phrase they both use sometimes, because they know what the other will say; their individual happiness often relies on that of the other, but at heart, they both know that their mutual happiness is what matters most. Harry rubs a hand over Jeff’s side. “You’re being very sweet today.”

Jeff raises his eyebrows. “Am I not sweet everyday?”

“Hm. No comment.”

Jeff pinches Harry’s ass as he turns on his heel to head down the hall, and is rewarded with a very undignified yelp. 

They peruse the bedrooms, discussing how great the natural light is and plans for where they’re going to position beds and furniture for the boys’ rooms. The master bedroom is last, and Harry nearly cries when he walks in. When Jeff asks why, Harry thickly says, “It has crown molding,” like that’s some type of valid reason to be brought to tears. He supposes today _has_ been an emotional day, so Jeff won’t give him shit for it. 

The master is one of two rooms that gets a balcony; the other is a small sitting area near the upstairs landing, which is likely going to be overrun by the boys. 

“Are we gonna put chairs out there? _Oh_ , imagine having coffee out there in the morning? We need to do that, like, immediately. Which reminds me, when are we _moving in_?” Harry says practically in one breath.

“Yes, we can do that,” Jeff laughs. “And I have everything arranged already. I just need you to figure out which days will work best for you and the kids, and then we can go from there.”

Harry’s nostrils flare and he gets that glint in his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “You are _so_ getting laid tonight. Like, the most laid anyone has ever been laid. The _ultimate_ laid.”

“Didn’t you know? That was the whole reason for this entire thing. I was angling for sex.”

“I’m not even mad.” Harry shrugs. 

The master bathroom is absolutely enormous and Harry is apparently in love. Even as they’re walking back downstairs, he keeps talking about the glassed-in shower and the jacuzzi jet tub. 

As soon as they step on the back deck, though, Harry goes quiet again. The entire backyard is all fenced-in, a huge expanse of perfectly green grass equipped with a stone patio, a swing set, and space for a garden. Most of it gets direct sunlight, but there’s a big oak tree that provides some shade. Jeff already has plans for putting up a standing umbrella, and maybe even a hammock. There are two smaller trees towards the back that should be able to support one, and he knows Harry would love it. 

When he looks at Harry, he can tell exactly what he’s thinking, just by the expression on his face: soft, half-smiling, and a little bittersweet. He always looks like that when he’s either thinking of the kids or watching them play in real time. Jeff asked him once, why he looks like he’s caught between happy and a bit sad, to which Harry explained that he loves seeing the kids exactly as they are, but he’s already sad for the future, when they won’t be little anymore. Jeff is more of a ‘roll with the punches’ type of guy, but he gets it.

Turning his attention to the yard again, Jeff conjures up the same image he has been for weeks now. Jude and Eli on the swings, River trying to climb up the slide instead of going down it. All three of his boys running through the grass. Harry using the sit down mower to cut the lawn, having the boys take turns for a ride-along on his lap. 

Jeff even dares another thought, one he only indulges in every now and again—a fourth baby, boy or girl or whoever they want to be (because Jeff isn’t picky), crawling across a blanket while they have a family picnic. A fourth baby growing up with three older brothers who loves them and torments them in equal measure. A fourth baby who will only ever know this big, beautiful house, with plenty of room to play and grow. The house that they needed and wanted and everything in between. 

Jeff is pulled out of his thoughts when Harry slips their fingers together, bumping shoulders. 

“So, do you like it?” Jeff asks, feeling quite smug.

Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jeffrey. I can take back what I said earlier.”

“Bullshit. There’s a _pot filler_ in your new kitchen. I know that shit gets you going. You’ll only be punishing yourself.”

“Excuse me,” Harry scoffs. “That is...entirely untrue.”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

“Honesty is the best policy, Jeffrey.”

“Well then can you be honest with me for a second? I promise I’m not fishing for anything. I just want to make sure that you’re really okay with all of this.”

“Of course. I’m so, _so_ happy right now.” Harry reassures before smirking. “So happy that I thought about blowing you in the kitchen when you first showed it to me. Right by the stove, so I could keep an eye on my new appliance the entire time.”

“I _knew it_.”

Harry laughs and tugs on Jeff’s hand. “Come on. I wanna go look at that tub again.”

“Lead the way,” Jeff says. His cheeks _do_ hurt from smiling. 


End file.
